Stepping Through Time
by S k i n n e y L o v e
Summary: Harry gets hit by a unknown spell while taking out the last of the Death Eaters. Next thing he knows, he is in the Hogwarts infirmary with Dumbledore and Lily Potter. Much to Harry's dismay, he discovers that Voldemort is very much alive in this strange world. While trying not to reveal to much about himself, Harry takes on the challenge. Rated M because I'm paranoid, non-slash, AU
1. Chapter 1

_Damnit! _Harry Potter thought angrily, his glasses had fallen off his bloodied, beat up face reducing him to only being able to see simple blurs and shapes. Despite his sudden blindness, he still viciously fought on. He knew it would be his death sentence if he were to bend over and try to find his fallen glasses. Or, more like a added death sentence, seeing as what he was doing at the moment was enough to make up a dozen death sentences.

"Avada Kedavra!" The death eater shouted, aiming for Harry's heart. Harry on instinct from hearing those syllables knew to duck, and thats just what he did. Collapsing face first to the bloody earth, he could feel and hear the green curse fly over head and hit the death eater Harry was sparring. The man fell to the ground dead and the death eater who casted the curse paused, having not expected that to happen.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" The feminine voice of Hermione Granger screamed urgently, just in time. The cutting curse made it's way to the death eater who casted the killing curse and the cutting curse launched itself straight towards the death eater. Within the split second that it took, the death eater laid on the ground with a wide gaping mouth and the familiar haunting dead eyes staring off at nothing. The red blood poured freely from the wound on his neck and chest, the scent hung on the humid, stuffy air sickeningly. Harry's grateful green eyes met Hermione's. There was no need for any word to be spoken between the two, that quick glance said everything that needed to be said. Hermione knelt beside the death eater's body and picked up a pair of simple, yet broken glasses. Muttering a repairing spell directed towards the broken lenses, she handed them to Harry. Quickly, as if they had not just witnessed -and caused- the death of a man, they returned to fighting stances, their wits about them.

"Over here!" A man's voice shouted out, his voice hardly carried over the eery, high-pitched screams. Harry started running, Hermione right behind him. The scene before them was disturbing to say the least, but they had seen _much _worse. Neville was stiff as a board on the ground, no doubt from a body bind curse, watching with distraught eyes as Luna Lovegood was suspended in air, writhing and screaming. Her blonde hair billowing out around her head crazily, blood was raining down on the ground and slowly, they could see the life begin to drain out of her eyes.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" Harry yelled, pointing towards the cloaked figure. His spell had hit it's mark, a warm spray of blood splattered out of the death eater, and he fell to the ground, barely alive. As a result of this, Luna feel to the ground breathing heavy and twitching violently as a after affect of being crucio'd for so long. His motive was to run towards the girl, the girl who had such a imagination and hope beyond anyone he has ever met. She was so innocent, so pure. But before he could reach her, Hermione's and Neville's combined yell stopped him.

"HARRY!"

Harry spun around and watched with wide eyes as a unknown curse was coming right at him. He could barely hear Hermione shout protego, he could barely hear Neville's hopeless yells. All he was aware of was the oddly black colored curse inches away from him, shimmering dark, deadly colors. Harry couldn't help but think of how strangely beautiful it was. The next thing he was aware of was blinding, mind numbing pain. It seemed to erupt in his core and it spread through his body, hitting every nerve, making sure he was feeling every bit of it.

* * *

"Dumbledore!" a voice shouted, it was from a redheaded female, tall, lean built, and who had the most beautiful green eyes. The voice was near frantic, as were most voices when a person was facing a unknown problem. People tend to fear the unknown.

"Lily?" Albus Dumbledore responded, he stood up from the chair he was sitting in and curiously peering over his glasses towards the woman. She was running towards him, breathless, chest heaving, taking in large gulps of air.

"Someone," she panted, "broke in," she panted again, "the castle!" She finished finally. The curiosity left Dumbledore's eyes and he became dead serious.

"Death eater?" He asked. Lilly shook her head, "I'm, I'm not sure!" She felt like banging her head against a wall. _How could I be so stupid? _"I didn't even check for the mark, I-" Dumbledore cut her off with a knowing glance. She seemed to visibly relax, knowing that he wasn't upset with her for making such a trivial mistake.

"You have to come see for yourself, looks badly injured, I don't recognize him." She rushed down the stair's leading out of Dumbledore's office, Albus following close behind her. Before long, they were in the great hall. Thankfully, it was the beginning of summer break, meaning that no students would be here, all students safe at home.

In the middle of the great hall was Poppy, she was leaning over a small figure. From the looks of it, the person was unconscious. The closer Albus and Lily approached the boy -or man- the details of his injuries were visible. He was bloody, scarred, and bruised. He looked as if he had just come back from a gruesome battle. His face was swollen, making it nearly impossible to see who he might be.

"I've been using some diagnostic spells on him, and he's got a lot of blood loss. Nothing broken, don't know how he's managed that." Poppy said, she looked up at the headmaster.

"Well, lets move him into the infirmary, then we can decide how he got here." Dumbledore looked over at Lily, "Alert the order, we got a strange intruder at Hogwarts, doesn't look like a threat, but if he was able to break in here, then I believe his looks are deceiving." Lily Potter felt a chill go down her spine and slowly, annoyingly, spread out to her finger tips. If Dumbledore was indirectly saying someone could be a threat, then that person was a _threat._

* * *

Pain.

The aching, stinging, annoying kind of pain.

Harry groaned. His head was throbbing horribly. He felt like hell.

"Come quick! I think he is waking up," Poppy called softly, not wanting to startle the unknown boy -er man- honestly, he had the looks of a boy, but he seemed to be so much more than that. All the scars, it just seemed to much for a boy. It made her feel better if she thought of him as a man.

_Was that Poppy? _Harry thought, the words, although he was sure they were spoken softly, sounded like loud explosions going off in his head.

"Give him some space," Poppy snapped, Harry almost felt like laughing and if it wasn't for the pain resonating in his head and the rest of his body, he probably would have laughed. It was so like her, her caring nature, her ability to know just what her patient needs. He released a groan. He knew he should open his eyes, he knew it. But thinking of that simple, small action, made him think of how much work it would be to actually do. _Come on Potter, don't be lazy. _He said firmly to himself. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

Lily Potter who hadn't left his bedside ever since he had come the infirmary gasped, a hand come up to her mouth quickly. The young man had been in the hospital wing for several days now, without even showing a sign of waking up. Now here he was, suddenly just waking up as if he had been awake the whole time. She felt relieved, happy that he was alive, satisfied that he didn't seem to be angry, he didn't look evil. It wasn't until she stared into his eyes when she noticed the first odd, scary thing about this patient. It was as if she was looking into a mirror. His green eyes matched Lily's own green eyes perfectly. She wasn't the only one who noticed it. Dumbledore was trying his best to contain his curiosity towards the patient, but he was failing miserably. This boy had Lily's eyes. There was no doubt about that.

Harry blinked several times. There was several figures in the room. He knew from hearing one of their voices, that one person in the room was Poppy. Just knowing that tidbit of information reassured him. At least he wasn't in one of Voldemort's dungeons. His eyes flickered over towards the other two figures. One tall, intimidating with what looked to be large, long grey blurs on their face. _Aberforth? _Harry thought, he assumed the grey blurs was a abnormally long beard and a head full of long hair. With that description he would of thought the name was Dumbledore, but of course, the man was dead. Next to Aberforth was a smaller figure, the person had red hair. He couldn't really make out their features, but due to the color of the hair, Harry was thinking the person was a Weasley. But, the only Weasley's Harry knew of with long hair was Bill, Ginny, and Molly. _They are all dead. Who is this person? _

Despite Harry's horrible vision, he could tell that all three of the people in the room were staring at him expectantly. He knew he should say something, anything. But at the moment, his mind was to frazzled, he was confused, he was in pain, and honestly, he had nothing he wanted to say. Perhaps his sudden tongue tied behavior would ease up if he could just get his glasses. He absolutely hated to be left in the dark. Literally. Not being able to see was one of Harry's worst fears. He was vulnerable when his glasses came off, he couldn't see, and you can't protect yourself from things you can't see. Thats why he usually kept a sticking spell on his glasses at all times, but of course, he couldn't keep up the spell when he was unconscious.

"Sir?" Dumbledore began, trying to word himself carefully, he didn't want the unexpected guest to feel uncomfortable or threatened.

That one simple word, that voice, it sparked something inside of Harry. _Dumbledore? _He thought getting more confused by the second. That voice had to be Dumbledores. _Dumbledore is dead! _Harry growled at himself, no one can be brought back from the dead. Not even Dumbledore. This had to be Aberforth. It just had to be, who else could look so much and sound so much like Albus Dumbledore?

"Aberforth?" Harry's voice croaked, it took much more effort than Harry thought it would to speak. His throat was so dry, so sore, he needed water. As if reading her patient's mind, Poppy summoned a glass of water and gave it the the young man. As Harry drank thankfully from the glass, Albus frowned. Lily looked over at Albus confused, _how did this person know Aberforth? _She knew that Dumbledore was thinking the same thing. Automatically, Albus was a bit weary of the young man laying before him. Albus wasn't sure if he was friend or foe.

"No," Dumbledore began tentatively, "I'm Albus, Albus Dumbledore." The look on the young man's face was one of confusion, sadness, irritation, with a bit of denial.

"No," Harry moaned, "You're Aberforth Dumbledore." He said defiantly, his heart set on the idea and Lily had a feeling that he wouldn't be swayed so easily in his belief of the headmaster's identity. Poppy gave Albus a questioning glance, she two didn't know what to think of the scene unfolding before her. Before Albus could respond, the black haired boy spoke up again.

"Glasses," he seemed to force out of his mouth. "I," he paused and took a gulp of water. "Can't see," he finished and blinked a couple more times, looking around the room again, and that was when Dumbledore noticed how the green eyes seemed to have a hard time focusing on the various points of the room.

"Oh! Of course!" Poppy started, jumping up quickly, startling the green-eyed, black haired man with her sudden movement. "I forgot about his glasses!" She left the room quickly, scurrying to wherever she placed the glasses. Harry finished the water in his glass, then held it out to whoever and tried to ask for more, but his throat wouldn't allow it. It was to raw.

"I'm going to get him a healing potion for his throat," Lily said, walking over to the shelves in the infirmary and searching among the various healing potions for just the right one. Harry visibly stiffened. He vaguely recognized that voice. It sounded like-, no... It couldn't possibly be. He shook his head roughly, as if he was trying to shake the mad thought out of his brain. "Ahh, here it is. I was starting to worry that we had run out," Lily Potter gripped the small vile in her hand securely, and poured some into the same glass he had been drinking from. She poured a small amount into it, then held it out for the boy with the striking green eyes to drink. She took Harry's hesitancy to drink the glass she gave him with the potion inside of it as a sign that he didn't trust her enough to drink it. But really, he wasn't focusing on the pain in his throat, or his head, or the stupid healing potion in the glass. He was completely listening to Lily's voice. It was soothing, calming, but it also stirred a haunting fear within him. _This is not Lily Potter, this is not my mother. I'm just imagining things, this woman is a Weasley, this is not my mum. _

_"_It's alright, you can trust me. It's just a healing potion for your throat, go ahead, drink it. It may taste bad though, just to warn you." Lily nodded encouragingly at the young, handsome man. He took the glass and drunk it's contents in one swallow. He coughed a bit, a affect from the terrible after taste of the potion. Lily wasn't really paying attention to that though. She was to busy studying his face. The swelling had gone done considerably. She just couldn't believe how young, yet how mature he looked. He looked as if he had seen everything, she was close enough that she could feel power coming off of him. He was handsome, despite the various scars on his face. One of them was in a odd lightening bolt shape, it rested on his forehead. Her eyes moved over and she stared into his green eyes, those beautiful, deep emerald green eyes. It was at that moment when she suddenly was struck with how much this black haired man looked like her husband. He had the same facial features, the same untamable short, black hair. Only major difference was his eyes. Lilly's eyes. This scared Lily. _Who is this man?_

"I almost forgot where I left these!" Poppy exclaimed, in her left hand was a simple pair of black rimmed glasses. The circular lenses were worn, barely being held into place, it was obvious that the only way the glasses could still be holding together was because of extensive magic.

"I'm honestly surprised they haven't crumbled yet," Albus commented jokingly.

Harry took the glasses gratefully from Poppy. Placing them over his eyes, the world around him seemed to open up. All the dark blurs and weird blobs came to life.

"No," Harry whispered, his eyes widening, his heart beating a mile a minute. "No, this can't be happening." He sat up quickly, to quickly. He swayed a bit, as light headedness hit him full force.

"Lay back down! Don't over exert yourself!" Poppy scolded, placing a hand on his shoulder to try and gently push him back down. Harry shuddered at the contact. He leaned away from Poppy's caring hand and gave her a look that was close to a glare. Poppy, surprised, took a step back. Dumbledore's eyes narrowed and as quick as lightning, he had his wand out, pointed toward the unknown person. Lily was more hesitant at grabbing her wand.

"This can't be, no, no no!" Harry said in disbelief, he is eyes darting back and forth between Lily Potter and Albus Dumbledore.

"Young man, you're going to have to calm down and put your wand away," Albus articulated each word sharply, speaking slowly. His blue eyes never wavered off of the green-eyed man in front of him. Harry hadn't even noticed that he had his wand out, it was instinct for him now, to grab his wand whenever he was unsure, scared.

"Who are you!?" Harry tried his best to not let panic seep into his voice, but he failed miserably.

"I believe I should be asking you the same," Dumbledore said calmly. Harry glared at the old man.

"I said, who are you!?" He growled, his wand hand shaking slightly. Dumbledore, probably thinking that it would be for the best if he just answered the young man's questions.

"I am Albus Dumbledore, as I have informed you earlier." Dumbledore did not lower his wand, it was still held high and pointing at the black haired man's chest.

"Liar," Harry whispered, his eyes glanced again back over toward Lily.

"I can most assure you that I am he," Albus began, "Ask me anything. Let me prove that I am who I say I am." The young man paused and thought about that for a minute. Lily glanced over at the headmaster, but Albus never returned the glance. He kept his eyes trained on Harry, trying to figure out the boy.

"What is your favorite Jelly flavor?" Harry asked, his mind slowly going haywire. Lily rose a eyebrow at the odd question. Dumbledore gave no sign that he thought the question was odd.

"Raspberry," He said confidently. Harry's wand quivered.

"Candy?" Harry asked.

"Lemon drop."

"The species and name of your animal," Harry hoped that he would stump the faker on this one. Now Dumbledore looked slightly surprised. How did this young man know about his animal?

"A Phoenix named Fawkes." Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes did not blink while he talked. Yet, Harry still seemed unconvinced.

"What is death to the well-organized mind?" Harry asked with finality. This was his last question, if this man answered correctly, then he would have to be Dumbledore. But that doesn't mean Harry won't stay suspicious.

"To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." Dumbledore quoted himself, saying it word for word. Harry blinked. He dropped his wand slightly and stepped back. Dumbledore noticed this, and he two slightly lowered his wand.

"And you?" Harry's voice cracked, he tried his best to not break down and cry as he stared at his mother.

"I am Lily Potter," Her beautiful, calming voice resonated within Harry's mind. He slumped agains the wall and fell to the ground in a pitiful heap. His body shook with silent sobs. Lily's green eyes looked over at Albus questioningly, and he seemed to shrug. Deeming the boy to not be a threat at the moment, Dumbledore put his wand back into his robes. Lily, hesitantly, walked over to the young, hysterical boy. She placed a comforting hand on the back of his should and he seemed to melt into her touch. In that one simple moment, Lily's heart broke. Her maternal instincts took over and she couldn't help but feel sorrowful for the boy, protective of him.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, it's okay," She whispered softly, taking the boy into her arms and hugging him tightly. Harry had never felt safer in his life. He felt his fears drain away. He forgot about his tormentors, he forgot about his emotional scars, and for the first time, he felt like a normal boy. Dumbledore watched the two, the boy was obviously troubled. He looked vulnerable and weak.

It took several minutes for Harry to calm down, to get over that fact that he was in his mother's arms, even though she did not know it. When he finally did come back to his senses, he felt like a idiot. Like a fool. How could he let himself break down like that? And Harry vowed to never loose control over his emotions again after that. He pulled away from Lilly's warm embrace and stood up slowly, on shaky legs, taking on a sense of bravado, hoping he could fool Dumbledore.

"Now, I would like to know who you are," Dumbledore said softly, yet with a 'no nonsense' tone.

The words came out of Harry's mouth before he could stop them, before he could think about the implications.

"James," Harry paused, the lie came out of his mouth easily, it rolled off his tongue as if he had always been called that. "James Black."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks so much for the reviews :) I know this isn't the most original story out there, but I just love the idea and I had to write my own ****version, I'll try my best to make it as unique as possible. **

* * *

"YOU BASTARD!" A bushy haired witch screamed, so much emotion packed into her voice. Tears were freely flowing down her distraught face as she stared with such hatred towards the death eater who had just made Harry disappear. She had know idea what spell what was used, the death eater did not say a word when he casted it. It was a unusual colored spell, a spell she had never seen before. At the moment, she had know idea whether he best friend, her partner in the war, her brother was dead or alive. Was he hurt? Is he dying at this very moment, hoping I can somehow find him and heal him? Hermione's brain was running a mile a minute. Besides her thoughts on Harry's condition, she was solely concentrating on how she was going to avenge Harry. She was the last man standing -err.. woman in this case- Neville's petrificus totalus body bind had yet to wear off, Luna was suffering from extreme nerve damage after being under the cruciatus curse for far to long. Hermione her self was not that hurt, only serious injury was the large gash running down her leg, one of the bloody death eaters had used a cutting hex on her. But she paid no mind to the bleeding gash, she could heal it later, brew a quick blood replenishing potion as well.

The last, remaining death eater sneered and let out a chilling, cold laugh. Hermione froze. _How dare he? How dare he laugh! _She lost control of her body, of her mind. She was blinded by rage, sorrow, and desperateness.

"CRUCIO!" She screamed, her voice was oddly high and it cracked on the last syllable. The death eater writhed on the ground, screaming, begging for mercy. Hermione stared at him, her concentration unwavering, a sadistic glint was shining brightly in her eyes, her lips slightly turned upwards in a tight, close lipped smile. "_You have to mean it,"_ she remembered Harry telling her one time when she had unsuccessfully cast the curse once before, several years ago. She thought she would never be able to produce such a horrendous spell, it just wasn't in her she had claimed. She knew Harry spoke from experience about that, after all, he learned that from one of the best crucio casters in history, Bellatrix Lestrange. After all the belief that she could never feel enough hatred to do such a spell, now here she was doing it with a passion that could rival Bellatrix herself. For the first time, she _meant it._ Neville watched with wide eyes. Hermione's hair was wild and unkept from camping in forest among forest, hunting down the last of Voldemort's followers. Dried blood was on her face, most of it not her own. For a moment, Neville was suddenly struck with the strange thought that as he watched Hermione oddly enjoying inflicting the curse, she almost resembled Bellatrix.

"Hermione," Neville's voice cracked, he could feel some movement coming back to him, just enough to lift his head off the damp ground. The one word seemed to have brought Hermione back to earth. She hesitated, her eyes glanced over at Neville. Pure shock was on her face, she couldn't believe what she was doing. _I just used a unforgivable. _The second her concentration wavered, the curse lost it's effect. The death eater stopped screaming, but he was still writhing on the ground, no doubt he too had suffered nerve damage, just like poor Luna.

"I-, I-" Hermione was at lost with words, she stuttered and her hands started to shake. She felt like curling up into a ball and crying. But of course, this was no place to do that. There was still one death eater remaining, barely alive, but he was still there nonetheless. They couldn't leave without him finished off.

"It's okay," Neville reassured her. Although it was unnerving to have seen her go into such a crazed state, he knew that she was still the same, know-it-all Hermione. The same Hermione who hated to break rules and loved to live by the facts. The same Hermione who hated Unforgivable Curses with a passion.

"Sectumsempra," Hermione muttered under her breath. The cutting hex launched itself from the tip of her wand straight toward the death eater's jugular. The man died instantly. Neville closed his eyes and felt feeling return to his body. His spell had worn off. He stood up and went over to Hermione, hugged her tight as she cried into his chest. He to felt tears of relief flooding down his cheeks. Their moment didn't last long. Neville and Hermione both rushed over towards Luna. Neville cradled the blonde girl's skinny beaten body to his frame tightly, holding her head lovingly. The twitching was nearly nonexistent now. Hermione casted a few healing charms, and gave the girl several potions, one of them being dreamless sleep. Once Luna was cared for and in much better condition, Hermione felt herself collapse to the ground.

It was over.

* * *

Harry was twitching in his sleep, memories haunting his worn out brain. Of course Poppy had know idea that he was nightmare prone, or else she would have given him dreamless sleep potion. Harry usually would have produced a silencing charm around his bed, but of course, that was the farthest thing from his mind when he went to sleep that night. After meeting his mother and Dumbledore who were supposed to be dead, his mind was rattled. He was trying to figure out what happened to him before he fell asleep. What was the spell that was used on him? What did it do to him? Was he in a different reality? Or was he just brought back into time? Wherever he was, he knew he had to be careful. If he had gone back in time, then he was in a huge mess. Meddling with time is a dangerous thing to do. If he were to pop up and announce himself as Harry Potter, when perhaps his parents weren't even married yet then what would that do to the future? What if he did something drastic and ended up dead, thus meaning the future was doomed to have Voldemort take over the world killing even more of Harry's friends.

He needed to find a way to get out of the past or this reality, wherever he was, and get back home as soon as possible. He had left his friends at the worst moment. Hermione, Neville, and Luna were stuck fighting the last of Voldemort's supporters. They needed him. Luna was in terrible shape when he was forced out of his time or reality and Neville was body binded, he had no way of defending himself. Hermione had a horrible gash on her thigh and he feared for her life as she faced the last death eater. What would he do with himself if she were to die? He was so dependent on her these days. She understood him better than anyone. Hermione knew what he needed, she knew how to fix him and she knew just what to say to get Harry thinking clearly. She knew how to handle his nightmares, she just knew him. Now without her, he was lost. He needed her, he needed Neville, and he needed Luna. They were a inseparable pair. Ever since Ron was murdered, Hermione was different. She loved Ron, he loved her. They had a beautiful relationship, a connection. Harry undoubtedly knew that the two would end up getting married once they were done with all the Voldemort/death eater shit.

Ron sacrificed himself to save Hermione's life. Not the whole blood protection sacrifice that Lily Potter did for her son, but a sacrifice nonetheless. They were doing another raid against a group of eluding death eaters. It was nightfall and quite foggy, making it hard to see. Hermione was giving her all in fighting against Draco Malfoy, the murder of Ginny Weasley, and soon to be murder of Ron Weasley. He threw Avada Kedavra towards Hermione, she froze up, as this was one of the first raids, so she was still considerably green when it came to the battle. Usually it was Harry doing all the dueling. She had closed her eyes and was bracing herself for the inevitable when she heard the all to familiar voice shout out and next thing she knew, the beloved body of Ron was at her feet. He jumped in front of the killing curse to save her life. Hermione just stared at the lifeless body at her feet, going into shock. Harry had jumped in at that point, tears streaming down his face from the loss of his best mate, and he crucio'd the crap out of Draco. Draco wasn't as lucky as the other death eaters, for he suffered a slow painful death. He suffered the same fate as Neville's parents. He was under the cruciatus curse for so long that he went mentally insane. It was then that Harry finally delivered the final blow. The green light from Harry's unforgivable curse lightened up the dark night around them. Hermione was madly clutching Ron's body, screaming and crying, not giving a care that she might have blown their cover and now every single person within a mile radius could have heard her desperate screams.

Ever since that day, Hermione and Harry both were different. Hermione was the most different, she was far to quiet at times and she preferred to curl up in a corner alone rather than reading a book by the fire. Harry became more ruthless towards his enemies, not thinking twice about using unforgivable curses and other dark magic. While he was still a wizard who supported the light, his magical energy was the tainted color of grey. He know longer cared about whether a spell was originated from light or dark magic. If it got rid of his enemy, then he was going to use it. The only times when the _real _Harry and Hermione would pop out of their hallow shells was when they were around each other.

Neville and Luna were very accustomed to Harry's vivid nightmares. Every night he would wake up screaming, sweaty, and feverish. He always relived the most horrible moments of his life, and sometimes, in the worser nightmares, he would relive Voldemort's memories. Despite the silencing charms on Harry's bed, Hermione always knew when Harry was having a nightmare. She would get up numbly and make a warm cup of tea, wake him from his sleep as gently as she could, and then she would silently give him the warm tea mixed with a bit of throat healing potion and they would sit in silence with one another, drawing strength from each other. After he finished his tea, Hermione would pick up his cup, take them over the sink and would tiredly go back to her own bed and fall back into sleep. Even Harry would go back to sleep, finding his dreams far less disturbing.

This was one of those nights where Harry was having a nightmare. Although instead of the usual murder of his girlfriend, Ginny Weasley, or the murder of Sirius Black, or his many horrible visits with Voldemort, this one was of his mother. After seeing her alive for the first time, it had re-sparked a certain memory in the dark haired wizard. It was Lily Potter's death. It was then that Harry started screaming in his sleep. High, throat bleeding screams that seemed to almost reach right into you and touch your soul.

Dumbledore did not want to leave the young man unsupervised in the night. He was still unsure as to whether James Black was good or bad. So, he had several people take shifts in the night. It was Severus Snape who was on watching duty at the time the young man started his nightmares. Snape was the first to awake from the screams, he was in the bed directly across from the raven haired wizard. Severus flung out of bed with reflexes from all his years as being a death eater. He had his wand drawn out and he was ready to fight. Only, there was no one there. Only the writhing, screaming form of the mysterious boy.

"A nightmare," Snape muttered dryly, extremely annoyed that he was awoken so harshly from his sleep. Before he casted the ennervate spell, he felt himself tempted to look into the boy's mind. Deciding there was no harm in doing so, he probed his way into the boy's mind. At first, he was resisted by a moderately strong mental shield. _Occlumency _Snape though with a sneer. Where did the boy learn that? Sending a stronger wave towards the boy's mind, he finally broke through.

_The room was dark, the only source of light came from the window where the moon seemed to almost shine a spotlight on a crib that was in the corner of the room. It was eerily quiet, only the soft, gentle whispers of the mother was heard as she grasped with white knuckles, the bars on the crib, staring directly into the eyes of a boy that looked to be a year old. He to was holding onto the crib bars, using them as supports so he could stand up. His attention was unwavering, his expression slightly confused, but calm. He was staring into the face of his mother. The woman was kneeling, she had a small frame, with wavy red hair. _

_"You are so loved," she whispered, her love for her child was oozing through her words. "So loved," Her voice was soothing and beautiful. "Momma loves you," her melodic voice paused, a creak was heard from the stair case. "Dada loves you," her voice broke slightly, it was now visible that she was trying her absolute best to keep control of her emotions. A single tear was streaming down her face. It was odd, because it appeared to be that she was just cooing to her child as a nightly ritual to get him to fall asleep. But now, it was starting to look like something so, so much more. _

_"Be safe, be strong." She reached a few fingers between the crib bars and gently stroked the tear stained cheeks of the year old child, the boy closed his eyes and leaned into the gentle touch. It was at that beautiful moment when a shadow was thrown across the crib, a tall man was standing in the door way. _

_"AVADA KEDAVRA!" The bright green light was bright and powerful, it zoomed towards the crib and without even a second thought or a moment's hesitation, the mother of the child jumped to her feet and took curse straight to her chest. Her loud scream echoed in the room and her body fell to the floor, dead. _

_The room seemed to blur and spin and a echoing voice was weeping._

_"You, you said- you said you would keep her safe- you said-" The voice was marred with hurt, it was pitiful. Another voice began to speak up, and as it did, the nursery room was getting fainter and another room was becoming clearer. _

Snape didn't have a chance to find out what was happened next, as he was hurled across the room and was sporting a splitting headache. Apparently the young man in the infirmary bed awoke and discovered that someone was prying into his mind, because he sent a massive and painful occlumency wave towards Snape, sufficiently kicking him out of the raven haired wizard's mind. Before Snape could recollect himself, he felt a wand pointing into his neck.

"I don't like people getting inside my head," a hoarse voice -no doubt from the screaming- threatened. Severus looked up into the startling familiar green eyes of Lily Potter, but instead of the angelic face, it was a boyish face of a young man with short black, messy hair and a peculiar lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

"No need for such hostilities," Snape articulated every syllable slowly, his voice almost hissing. James Black's vibrant green eyes narrowed into a glare.

"I quite agree with him," Another voice broke in, this one belonging to Albus Dumbledore. James looked up and his eyes widened for a moment, shocked to see Dumbledore standing in the doorway. Another wave of shock hit him when he realized that Severus Snape laid on the ground below him. _Am I going insane? Seeing dead people?_ Then he remembered that he was in a unknown timeline and possibly a unknown reality. Stiffly, he dropped his wand away from Snape's throat.

"There you go," Dumbledore smiled in a grandfatherly way, "now, would you mind explaining to me what happened?" He raised a curious eyebrow towards Snape.

"He was in my head," Harry -James- supplied with a slight growl. "I don't take it well when people do that to me."

"I see," Albus hid back his curiosity as to how this young man knew that Snape was in his mind. "And the screaming?"

Harry kicked himself mentally. Of course everyone heard his screams, his throat was throbbing and raw and he had never got the chance to put silencing charms around his bed.

"Nightmare," Harry mumbled looking down, really wishing that Madame Pomfrey was here to give him a throat healing potion. More than anything, he was wishing that he had Hermione hear to do their nightly ritual. That had always made him feel better after a nightmare.

"And would you mind telling us about it?"

"Yes," Harry said firmly. "I would mind quite a bit, seeing as it was a personal memory. But of course, Severus here doesn't really have any respect for anything that's personal." Harry said a bit harshly, sending a quick glare over at the greasy haired man.

"Ah, James, I'm sure you can see this from his perspective. He was just wanting to help, and the best way to do that is to have a understanding of the dream." Albus informed, making a mental note to ask James how he knew Snape's name later.

"If you would excuse me Headmaster, but I would like to give him some throat healing potions, I bet he has quite the sore throat right now," Poppy said, her eyes gazing over the potions on the shelves, looking for the right one. "I believe this confrontation can be held at another time, my patient needs some rest." With that, Poppy began to shoo Dumbledore and Snape out of the infirmary, much to their dislike.

"Here you go dear," Poppy held out a cup that held a mixture of several potions towards Harry. Harry gave her a weak smile. _Thank Merlin for Poppy, _He thought happily as he downed the nasty tasting potions in a couple quick gulps. Almost immediately he felt his throat feel better.

* * *

"He's not to be trusted," Snape informed soon as he and the headmaster were away from prying ears. They were in Dumbledore's office.

"Now Severus, we hardly know him," Albus admonished, studying Snape's face. Snape, knowing Dumbledore well, knew what Dumbledore really wanted. Take out his wand, the potions master aimed it towards his temple and a thin, silvery string came out. Slowly, he put it in the pensieve. Albus watched with twinkling eyes. He dipped his head in and watched the nightmare unfold in front of his eyes.

He lifted his head out of the memory and looked over at Snape. "It seems James Black's mother was murdered by Lord Voldemort... But not was she just murdered, she sacrificed herself for him." Albus's brain started to turn, mulling through the scene he had just witnessed.

"Somehow, Jame's escaped." Dumbledore said the most confusing part of the memory.

"Someone does just just escape from the Dark Lord if he wants to kill you!" Severus snapped. "Especially a baby!"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore began, "Voldemort did not want to kill James." His old, blue eyes scrutinized Snape's reaction.

"Are you implying-?" Severus visibly paled. If Voldemort didn't kill the child, then that would mean this boy was a exceptional wizard. The Dark Lord saw him as a threat but instead of murdering him, he decided to raise the child himself. To turn his greatest threat into his greatest ally. That would mean, James Black was a highly trained, incredibly powerful dark wizard with Voldemort like intentions who was currently in the Hogwarts castle, in the infirmary.

"Yes, that is exactly what I am implying. Severus, I want you to keep your eye on him. Watch your back and alert the rest of the staff." Dumbledore for the first time since Snape has known him, sounded scared and unsure.

"What are we going to do with him?"

"Leave it be. Pretend we know nothing. I want you to learn his weaknesses and strengths," Dumbledore slumped into his charge behind his desk, he stared at the desk surface deeply in thought. Snape saw this as the end of the conversation.


End file.
